You and I are in 'Unity'
by Arabella-Rose90
Summary: She came from the east. She wanted to feel safe, secure, and loved. Just like before... Well. Maybe this new place would bring her that same comfort. Charon/F!LW. Created for the Fallout Kink Meme. Please Read and Review. M/F
1. Going Under: A Whole New World

**Title:** You and I Are in 'Unity'

**Pairing:** Charon/F!LW

**Kink:** Ghoul, Love, Sex

**Rated:** M

**Disclaimer:** Obviously, I do not own any of the characters, settings, or objects used in this story.

_~This story was written for the Fallout Kink Meme for the prompt Charon's Love. Please enjoy.~_

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**Chapter One**: Going Under: A Whole New World

Honey brown eyes set its blurred vision on the lowered horizon. Skin pores dripped with sweat down onto fluttered eyelashes, only to be swept away by a dirt crusted hand. An unsteady heart managed to calm itself from the earlier adrenaline rush. Only moments ago, two small groups of scattered mole-rats and rad-scorpions charged from the west. They quickly ambushed, lashed out, battled, and struck viciously to kill the now exhausted and limp form. They were hastily shot down by one of many Chinese rifles the human owned.

Heavy red blood trickled down from the small bite wounds onto the rest of the slim, grimy, and sweat covered limbs below. A sigh of relief hit the figure as they sunk a needle in their mid-bicep; the syringe injected her with much-needed medication.

"Ahh..."

That definitely hit the spot.

She quickly threw away the syringe a few feet away from her; no litter police tell her otherwise. The metal clanked when gravity smashed it on the ground, and the glass shattered into immediate pieces.

Her shaky arms reached up to stretch out, elbows instantly popped, and the small framed female relaxed near some boulders as the night settled comfortably around her. The corpses of her enemies laid near by, to rot.. Their flesh and meat had already been ripped away from their skeletal remains.

The night air whispered by her softly, it gently whipped around her scruffy, dark brown hair. The breeze almost reminded her of the air vents back home. Home, the place she felt safest, and secure, unlike how The Wastes made her feel continuously throughout the passed days and weeks.

The Lone Wanderer let out a meek whimper, huddled herself in fetal position, and closed her eyes. Wishful thoughts soon gathered within her mind, such as her father still being alive out there and only a few short steps away from her. She would find him, and bring him back into her life again. She just knew she would do it. Puffy, cracked lips turned downward for a moment when a small murmur of doubt over-came her worn mind.

Without her father by her side, she absolutely felt alone. No one out there made her feel soothed from that pang of separation anxiety and loneliness that coiled around in her stomach. Not even the people of Megaton brought her much relief from the overwhelming emotion. Her vision flashed the faces of people she considered friends over in the small town. Moira, Gob, Simms...

Again, doubt spread throughout her weary mind. What if she never found someone out there that made her feel so complete, safe, and happy, beside her own father? What if she were cursed to wander the wastes without a true companion by her side? She shook her head side to side, and tried to think of something more positive. Something that distracted her.

Maybe if Moira's "Wasteland Survival Guide" became successful, she might complete another book for The Capital Wasteland and its inhabitants. Yeah... Maybe she would. With the help of the adventurous wanderer, of course.

She smiled at the idea and puffed out a quiet chuckle.

The petite warrior scratched at her lower back. If only her outfit weren't so overly worn and hand-me-down'd from several different people in the D.C. area, she wouldn't feel so itchy in their uncomfortably rough material. Her nails grated against her toughened skin, she sighed with relief. She tucked her head closely by her giant sack of supplies, guns, and ammunition. The grey-ish-brown sack was her only means of a pillow at that point.

Just before the moon made its mark in the sky, the young-faced kid soon let her eyes droop and her breath decreased. The sound of the wind, her rhythmic breaths, and the soft scuttles of distant creatures made her fall into a lightly to sleep.

For that moment, she allowed her tired body to slumber.

Her last conscious thought drifted slowly and steadily, determined to keep her aware to be on schedule and orderly. Something she wasn't entirely worried about at the moment - obviously.

Today: The Wastes. Tomorrow: The Museum of History.

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The young girl managed to reach the ruins of D.C., and to the National Mall. She was thrown out of loop with the tunnels, was trapped in one section of the tunnel, and then by accident she became distracted by her Pipboy. As time passed, she became aware she was utterly lost in another part of the metro. What an embarrassment. Thank God she was alone... At least.

She mulled over the constant reminders and the warnings of the probable dangers the tunnels had in store, but never she realized such things as a human that reeked like a foul corpse and looked of a depraved animal mixed with a skeleton would lunge at her. They attacked and attempted to murder her. They tried to bite her with their ajar teeth, and wanted to scratch her with their nearly skinless hands. Their fingernails resembled more of claws than just ordinary human nails.

Her eyebrows furrowed at the memory, and drank down whatever pieces of food that came up from her unsettled stomach. The idea that these poor, mindless souls nothing better to do than consume her just sent shivers down her spine. She knew it would be best if she avoided the metro station until she needed to travel back east. On a side note, she recalled on how seemingly lucky she actually was to make it out with only a few deep bruises, some cuts, and a torn under shirt. Her heart thumped in rhythm she jogged. Only a few more feet before she reached her desired location, The famous ghoul dwelling called 'The Underworld."

It had been mentioned several times by Gob; the shy, soft-spoken man back in Megaton. He spoke often about the place, in a fond manner. He said that the museum was his home for many years, before found himself as a partial slave to the Irish-bred bastard, Moriarty. He informed her that the very well known placed titled "The Underworld" was meant to be an absolute safe haven for all people similar to himself, in fact. Yet, he did mention they took in -_humans-_ like herself.

His often brief mentions made her realize that she needed to stay at least a night in that quaint place when she reached the ruins. There was an area where they actual beds, for her to rest in comfortably. Supplies, food, and booze to purchase. And the most essential need of all; a doctor on hand. Which she absolutely wished for after all her constant run ins while on on foot. She only hoped none of these people would rip her off. She was still far from wealthy.

She also required someplace or someone to trade her extra baggage she lugged around.

She groaned slightly at the weight of her sack.

Heavy boots stepped in front of the entrance of the Museum of History. She stared at the haunted appearance. An uneasy, disturbed emotion unsettled her for a moment. That skull... was terrifying. Whose bright idea was it to build that above the museum's doors, anyways?

Just before she reached the stairs to the front entrance, she was stopped by a retort in her general direction. The voice was soft, slightly silky, and raspy.

"Someone has a death wish."

Did she mention cocky? Yeah. That too.

She felt instantly insulted by the remark. She gripped her weapon tightly within her whitened knuckles. The brunette cocked her head back. She felt threatened, but was prepared to battle at any time. She raised her weapon for a mere second, and paused. She took a couple of steps forward, and her eyes locked on the person with the snotty attitude. Her eyes blinked twice.

"Wha-...?"

She came face to face with a semi-tall female form in an mercenary outfit that she wore proudly. Her features had the similar scarred appearance the wanderer came to recognize easily. Her hair was the most noticeable feature, with it being a shockingly bright red. Even if there were only a few patches of those red locks that curved around her forehead and the frame of her face, it was still very pronounced. The female had clouded, grey-ish blue eyes. It somehow made the ghoul more beautiful when matched with her red locks.

Sultry, ruby painted 'lips' smirked at the dumbfounded girl. Her words would bite hard, but she honestly could care less.

"Another human with a death wish... Welcome to the Mall, tourist."

The Lone Wanderer glared,"I'm not a tourist..."

"Sure you're not."

She took that remark and kept her mouth quiet.

Instead, she merely asked why this particular ghoulette would risk her health out here in the National Mall. She could get mauled by one of those dangerous mutants that prowled the area. From what the human knew, mutants hated anyone that stood in their path. Such as The Brotherhood. The ghoulette snorted out a laugh, and gave the girl some information on ghouls and mutants; they're neutral with each other. As though ghouls were some sort of distant cousins to those deranged green beasts. The girl blushed crimson when she has no idea there were like that between each other. Who would have thought? Certainly not her.

They spoke for a short while, and the traveler/tourist listened intently to every sentence and managed to swallow every negative retort the ghoul had stated. Within minutes she knew that this ghoul, and many other ghouls, despised the brotherhood. And the woman disdained those "psycho talon company members", and the girl understood the hatred. She found out that the ghoul's name was Willow. What an awfully pretty name for such a 'tough' character, she pondered.

Once the conversation dried up between the two, the girl shifted her sack on her shoulder and headed near the door again. She turned her feet away from the other, and casually advanced to the steps.

"Hey!" Willow passively shouted at the wanderer. "What's your name, human?"

The younger female hesitated, and peered over her shoulder.

"Evelyn."

The ghoul placed a cigarette between her rose colored lips, and flicked a lighter out. A small ember rose from the small stick of nicotine when she inhaled.

"Mhm. Nice to meet you, Evelyn." A puff of smoke seeped into the air.

"Nice to meet you, too..." She trailed off, and darted up the stairs.

Two emotions were known now when her hand rested on the handle. Excitement and nervousness.

Encouraged words helped her past the door. She was ready for anything.

"Here we go."

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**Author Notes: **And there we have it. The first chapter to what may be a very long journey ahead of us. I hope you enjoyed it enough to leave a well appreciated review. :) Thanks for reading, everyone.


	2. Welcome To The Ninth Circle

**Author Notes:** Thanks for the reviews so far! I really do appreciate them and would love to see more reviews! :D

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**Chapter Two:** Welcome To The Ninth Circle

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Evelyn's dirt crusted boots echoed through the wide opened floor of the museum. Dilated pupils adjusted to the darkness. There was so much caked on dust in the place. Even the book she picked up and dropped back down had its dust whisk up into her face. Her eyes watered a little, and her nostrils flared for a second. Her breath hitched a couple of times and forced air whizzed passed her mouth. Her whole body jerked forward in motion. Small bits of spittle came out onto her hand. Dammit, that sneeze made her sinuses ache. She sniffled and rubbed her nose.

After she wiped her hand on some torn pages, she peered over the desk counter. She knelt down and scavenged the shelves underneath the counter, and found it to be almost completely barren aside from some rotted out or burned novels. She couldn't, but help that it was a pity these works of literature were destroyed after The Great War. It was such a great waste of knowledge, really.

She stood back up, stretched, and carefully stepped towards the old museum's attraction pieces. The mammoth only had one and half tusk to jut out proudly. The once grand skeletal remains of a dinosaur was fallen apart. What remained was the lower half, which was a poor sight. The support beams and attached wires barely helped the lower half in its exhausted effort to stand, like it had in the past.

Evelyn stared in awe, and softly whistled at the quite impressive floor pieces. They were almost as terrifying as some of the creatures that she witnessed outside. The major difference being that those things were alive. And they walked amongst the humans outside. Well... They _-did-_ before they ate a bullet for dinner - courtesy of her handy-dandy rifle. She guided herself over to the animal and gently caressed its thick, woolly fibers with her partially gloved hand. It felt rough, real, and alive underneath her fingertips. As though she stood there before the beast, thousands of years before its extinction.

She thought about the two world's she had never met. The one before the war, and the one afore that.

She readjusted her outfit and equipment, and tried to gracefully stroll past the two giants without a sound, and handled the knob of the next room. She turned it ever so slightly,. If there were going to be any enemies near by this small safe haven, her decent ability to sneak wouldn't allow them detect as easily as some other poor sap. That was for sure.

She peeked through the door, and slowly slipped through the frame. She found a crowded room full of men and women in casual wear clothing, their mouths chitchatted away in idle conversations. As she continued to poke her head through and walk inside the peaceful atmosphere, she noticed one male ghoul looked over his shoulder. He appeared to be outside of the main crowds and all by his lonesome, aside from the hovered robot next to him. He hurriedly faced the girl, and broadly smiled. He seemed to be amused and delightfully shocked.

His hoarse voice became boisterous with enthusiasm.

"Oh, well would you look at that? We got us a smoothskin visitor! Hoooeeee, we ain't seen one of your type in a long time."

Several ghouls and ghoulettes turned to view the young wanderer. Curious eyes lingered and gazed upon her slender frame. The residents eyes never broke contact as they whispered amongst themselves.

The brunette stepped an inch backwards and flushed. She wasn't used to being the center of attention to an entire cluster of people.

_'They haven't? Oh no...'_, Her thoughts strung along.

The ghoul's 'eyebrow' raised for a minute, and his lips flickered a soft smirk.

The girl stammered out,"Smoothskin? What does that mean?"

"Smoothskin? You know, because your skin is so smooth... " He informed her with a slight pause.

The girl eased a little, and had a _'Oh, duh...'_ moment when everything clicked, and she smiled in response.

"and tasty."

Her shoulders tensed.

The ghoul only broadened his grin and stifled a laugh.

"Relax! I'm just kidding!" Evelyn cracked a grin once more, and the two both chuckled to each other. He meant the joke to be a reference to man-eating zombies that once prowled the comic book shelves of the past. The Lone Wanderer wasn't naive about said comic books. Someone might say she was collector of them.

The girl softly brushed her hair back with the tips of her fingers, and giggled.

"But I had you going, didn't I?"

"You did!" She playfully shrieked. She laughed harder and swatted at the ghoul a couple of times as he dodged the open palmed attack.

Their breathing eased and settled back into normalcy.

"Mmhm. So, what can I do ya for?"

Evelyn was very surprised to find the ghoul to be so friendly and full of hospitality. She honestly expected there to be _some _hostility from the man, given by what they told her about the treatment they received outside of their home. Winthrop, the name he stated to her, gave her only brief information about 'The Underworld' and its inhabitants. He spoke about his own occupation and what he needed to help run the joint, and without much hesitation he immediately told Evelyn what he required.

Scrap metal, and lots of it.

Sure enough, she had a few pieces to spare. She handed them over without much of a second thought. He rewarded her good deeds with a stimpak, a pack of RadAway, and a soft thank you. He politely requested that if she ever had any pieces of scrap metal to give out in the future, it would be much appreciated if she considered him. He noted that she would be rewarded each time. She nodded and accepted the offer.

With that they parted, all smiles and friendly goodbyes. What great way to start while in a new place that she might call her home, one day. She wondered eagerly what other kind of friendly hostesses lived here. Maybe the folks with the beds just as pleasant to chat with when she purchased a room.

She prolonged the hopeful scenarios until she suddenly remembered about the consumables she needed to trade off before she settled down for dinner and bed. It was absolutely imperative that she had this done before her long-waited deep sleep, just in case she traveled the wastes tomorrow. No sense to lug around an overweight bag when you could carry around a hefty pouch full of caps – especially when you bought ammo and weapons every few days.

She hollered at Winthrop and asked for directions to a shop that would buy her booze and food. The ghoul turned his body and pointed upstairs, to the right.

"You'll find the place to be just what'cha need, smoothskin."

She vocalized a big 'thank you' and trotted up the steps as quickly as possible. Her sack jumped and dangled off of her shoulder, as did her humble-sized holster and the 10mm pistol inside it, which she held her hand onto just in case it tried to jump out and hit the floor.

A minute later, she found herself in front of the doorway to the shop was she directed to by Winthrop.

At least this time the doors were already half way opened for her. She grabbed the handles and pushed her way into the animated atmosphere. In an instant, a whiff of thick musk and alcohol caught up in her nose and throat. It was heavy and raw, and she grimaced at the unappetizing scent. Not a shop at all, but a very popular bar. Welp, she was definitely in the right spot to sell her booze, at least.

Her brown eyes fixated on the surroundings and saw the bartender with his caps. He fingered at them, and placed them in organized stacks. He counted them one by one, with contented grin on his face. The patrons around him were woozy, lacked stable mobility, and were giddy about anything and everything. She walked a few paces inside the room. She viewed across the room from left to right, and caught one ghoul with his eyes directly on her. Glassy light blue eyes were lowered and eyebrows were extremely furrowed. The face expression truck an odd pang in Evelyn's stomach. His lips were tightly pursed together, and formed a frown. As though the man disapproved of her presence.

She wouldn't allow the extraordinarily statuesque man intimidate her away from her soon to be profitable trade. She paced her foot-steps, past the eyeful man, and quickly settled herself in a seat that wasn't occupied by a drunk.

The bartender was still fixated on his caps, and never bothered to look up when she propped her elbows on the bar. She lightly, and politely, cleared her throat.

The man darted his eyes to meet with her own, and blinked. The mixed emotion made the impression of being stuck between confusion and surprise. The more she lingered in The Underworld, the more she realized she may have been the only real smoothskin to simply venture down there. She felt like one of those attraction pieces she stumbled across earlier, and that wasn't what she wanted when she came to the safe haven.

The ghoul corrected his posture, primmed back his strands of hair, and cleared his own throat.

"Is there something I can do for you?"

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Charon tensed his folded arms against his chest.

The entire day throughout, if described, would have been marked as uneventful. A few patrons continued to linger around in the bar even after all their caps had been snatched up from the eccentric bartender. He acknowledged that once all the booze withered away from their thick skulls, the few hang-ons would disappear.

He would never hesitate to claim that he severely disliked the crowds. Not at all. The run-away mouths that jabbered on about complete utter non-sense, the ghoulettes that blared their laughter at unfunny jokes, the ghouls that latched on to said females in their desperate action to get laid. All the things only a drunk-minded ghoul would tolerate.

He also didn't care for the casual _'friend_' that would mosey on over to Charon's corner of the room and initiate conversation that he wouldn't allow himself to engage in what-so-ever. Due his contract.

The only true excitement that came from the notorious bar was that piece of scum ghoul that wanted more from his caps. He tried to hustle his way in for more liquor. Of course, once the ghoul became violent, that was when Charon had an excuse to use his incredible force to handle the angered costumer. A few blows to the head, and a barrel down someone's throat always managed to settle a violent dispute.

He hadn't expected much from the evening either. He closed his eyes and perched himself up against the wall. He felt an itch on his sore back. He used the roughness of his gun and his outfit to scratch away the uncomfortable feeling. He relaxed and sighed with relief.

That was when a smoothskin approached the already half open bar doors. Charon noticed the figure right away, and re-positioned himself on the wall so he appeared more bodyguard-like again. She huffed and puffed when she walked inside the place, as though she jogged all the way up here. Her light colored skin shined with beads of sweat, and her face was remarkably clean with only speckles of dirt on her cheekbones. Her hair clung to the sides of her face and forehead, and her body screamed 'sleep deprivation'.

She strode in the bar after she carefully eyed the area. She noticed the red haired ghoul as he kept note of every movement she made. He didn't bat an eyelash at her contorted face when she calculated how aggressive he seemed to be with his scowl. If only she knew he wasn't upset that the human was there, but actually highly curious of that innocent young girl. Her presence was out of place here.

He watched as she eloquently seated herself down on the barstool. That was when he noticed the clothing item that looked similar to a jacket tugged around her waist. The material was an apparent blue color, with numbers imprinted on the back of it.

101...

His eyes widened. Someone from the vault?

Charon blankly stared at the vault-suit and its bold numbers, unaware by his surroundings as he became lost in his own thoughts. He hadn't snapped out of it until he heard Ahzrukhal speak.

"Is there something I can do for you?"

There soon followed an obvious answer.

"Yeah. I would like to trade my booze and food for some caps!" She beamed, and it almost came off as completely innocent and childish.

The bartender, Ahzrukhal, sighed. He tapped his finger on the counter and made a facial expression of annoyance. It was clear he wasn't pleased with the girl's bubbly nature and personality.

"Then show me what you have, girlie."

She slung the goodies onto the open counter, and proceeded to empty it out the food and booze one by one from her knapsack. She brought out only three of her vodkas, four of her whiskeys, and 5 little packs of Salisbury Steak. Suddenly, she caught the eyes of drunken ghouls and they appeared over her shoulder.

Charon's perceptive abilities helped him immediately glance over at the other ghouls as they slowly formed around the dark-brunette out of curiosity. He softly growled at their rude intrusion, and he grabbed his combat shotgun from over his shoulder. He hastily hoisted it mid-air and aimed it at the patrons near the bar. A silent, but deadly warning.

Ahzrukhal eyed at Charon, and shook his head as a way to quietly order his employee to 'stand down'.

The bodyguard lowered his weapon, but the damage was done. The startled ghouls wavered away from the girl as she propped each item on the counter in front of her.

Even if he didn't like the bigoted humans outside in the wastes, and hated the idea of them inside 'The Underworld' and somehow make a mockery out of it, he really didn't want to see someone as _pretty_ as the young girl being man-handled by a bunch of pathetic ghouls.

'… Pretty?' He darted his head down, and raised an eyebrow. Where did that word come from, exactly?

That was ridiculously odd for him to say about any smoothskin. He only had ill thoughts for those beings, especially ones that ran around their thighs all exposed to the elements outside, which in return made their soft thighs and curvy legs a slight tone of olive.

His eyes squinted, and he wondered perhaps that it may have been _too_ long since his last real sexual encounter. The word 'sexual' brought him back to those drawn-out legs. Yeah. It had been way too long if he had those kind of fantasies in his mind.

The idea of a human and ghoul in some random romp together... Was beyond hilarious. Charon had to hold back a chortle.

To go back on his main point, he just didn't want any trouble to be caused by his fellow ghouls just because the broad was loaded. That was all. Whether or not she was a smoothskin didn't matter, it was his duty to keep the bar safe as long as his employer owned it.

"Here are your caps – all 120 of them. Thank you for doing business with me today." Ahzuruhkal scooped the caps in his hand, put them in a tiny bag he found, and proceeded to hand the girl her money. He grabbed a couple of bottles from the counter, and placed one on the top shelf where he stored the whiskey, and placed the other where he stored the vodka. He did the same for the next two bottles.

"Um..." The girl interrupted his step-by-step actions.

He arched his head towards her direction,"Is there something else you would like?"

The girl nodded, and replied,"Can I get a cold whiskey? I heard from a friend of mine that you sold cold whiskies here."

The bartender nodded and duck down for a minute. He brought out one chilled whiskey. Little slithers of frost clenched to the side of the bottle. He snatched the last remaining bottles from the counter, and neatly tucked them away on the shelves behind him.

"How would you like to make payment, my dear?" He questioned her and when her hands clapsed around the neck of the bottle.

The human responded with cheery energy,"Would it be okay if I traded one of those whiskeys I gave you for a cold one?"

"Oh, certain-... " Then Ahzrukhal suspended his speech.

Charon noticed the glint in the man's eye. Of course his employer had seconds thoughts on his 'generous trade'.

"O-Oh, Sorry. You see, my_ cold _whiskeys cost a just little bit extra. About 5 caps extra."

"Ah..." The girl frowned. "Well. Okay. Hold on."

The girl fished through her coin-sack and easily located five caps to give to the man. .

_'Ahzrukhal... you bastard.'_ Charon internally spat. The usual costumers would have received a cold whiskey for a regular whiskey if they so requested, but the opportunity for Ahzruhkal to gain a few caps to his already expanded addition was too much for the ghoul's lack of an inner-conscious.

The man thankfully took the caps, and in exchange let the young-ling take what was rightfully hers at that point. He put away the rest of the items, such as the Salisbury Steak, and wiped the table clean of any residue (sweat, water droplets, and dirt) left on the counter. The human carefully unscrewed the cap off of the bottle, licked her dehydrated lips, and took a few measly sips of the cool, smokey beverage. Her first initial reaction was a splutter, a held back gag, but then she sighed with a invigorated gleam. She put the drink away from her mouth, and tightened the cap back on the head of the bottle, and tucked it away in her sack to keep safe for later.

She hopped off her barstool, and elevated her belongings onto her shoulder. She slapped her hand lightly on the bar counter. That was her silent goodbye. The man at the counter only bobbed his head slightly for her reassurance that the goodbye was witnessed. The wanderer headed for the exit. Charon never kept his eyes off of her as she strolled away, and studied her as her hips casually swayed side to side with each step. When she disappeared from sight, the maroon haired man surveyed his employer, and saw the owner went back to his task of tallying caps.

Charon couldn't help, but be puzzled if the stranger would return to the seedy spot of The Underworld any time soon.

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_Thank you for reading the second chapter. :)_


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